Blue
by fl0urished
Summary: Post-season 8 finale scene. One shot. Brennan-centric. Mentions of Hodgela.
1. High Anxiety

She stumbled her way, alone, into her shared bedroom. The room felt empty now. Promises made and broken in one day could kill anyone. The bed once shared now occupied one. She felt the brick layers of her resolve build up again.

Grabbing a tissue from the box off her end table, she wipes off the half dried tears from under her eyes and her cheeks. _Get it together, Temperance. Confide in someone. You can't keep it locked up forever. _She walks across the room to her dresser where one of her books lies on top of. She rips the title page out and takes a pen from her pocket and writes a note to Booth.

She has to leave, now. At least for a little while.

Putting a pair of shoes on, she quietly walks out the front door. She draws her cell phone out of her pocket and calls a cab service. It's late, but she can't deal with all of these emotions at once. She can't throw herself into her work, because there's no case currently. She can't stay at home, there's pressure to put on a facade.

She tucks her hands into the pocket of her red sweater, the air outside seems colder than it actually is. The time passes and it feels like years. When she sees headlights at the end of the road her house is on, she straightens out and hardens her expression. The world doesn't need to know how she's feeling, and she won't let them know even if they asked.

The cab stops in front of the house and she opens the door, sitting down softly as she sternly says the address she'd be headed to. The ride is like white noise- a low hum of an engine, the distant sound of a quiet radio station. The noise becomes a sensation riddling her mind when the cab stops at its destination.

Walking up to the secluded house, she checks her watch. 12:16am. It's not too late, but very late to be knocking on a door, or ringing a door bell. She decides against knocking on the door. The likelihood of knuckles against wood being heard throughout a house as opposed to the doorbell is small. Her finger grazes the button, and she pushes in.

The bell rings, and seconds after, the sharp sound of a child crying enters her conscious. _Fuck, I forgot about Michael Vincent_. She knows Hodgins is going to be livid, but she can't seem to care right now.

The locks to the door click and unlock, and the heavy wooden door opens to Hodgins in boxers and a wife beater. The look on her face is apologetic, but before she can open her mouth, Hodgins speaks.

"Do you have _**any **_idea what time it is Brennan? Couldn't you have at least called?"

Brennan lowers her head to hide the tears welling up again.

"I… apologize, Jack. I am greatly aware of the fact that is well past midnight, but I have personal matters that I cannot ignore."

Hodgins' face softens.

"So you're here for Angie, right?"

"Of course, not that I don't enjoy your presence."

Hodgins opens the door wider and invites her in. The house is dark, only illuminated by a dim lamp in the living room. When she has a seat on the couch, Hodgins ascends up the stairs to get Angela. She plays with the hem of her sweater, fingering a loose thread, pulling it until it snaps. Subtle distractions are what she needs.

There's a loud, overwhelming creek of the floor boards and Angela appears at the top of the stairs, it bounces her back into reality. She turns her head to watch Angela descend the stairs in slippers and sleepwear.

When their eyes meet, Angela knows.

"Is everything alright Brennan?"

"No. Nothing is."


	2. Avoidance

It's 3am. The grandfather clock ticks loudly on the other side of the room. Every second feels slower, every breath feels unrehearsed. Angela offered her the pull out couch, in which she rejected. The eager need to insist her best friend stay sane and safe overwhelmed Angela, and without Brennan's permission, she pulled out the couch anyways.

Angela offered to stay with her, but she declined. She felt the need to be alone for a while, but she appreciated the generous offer. Angela has a husband and a child, and she doesn't want to be more of a burden than she feels she already has been.

The air feels heavy, pinning to her to the bed as she tosses and turns sleeplessly. She reaches for her phone and the bright light illuminates her senses. She wants to read the time, but is faced with a myriad of messages and missed calls. Booth knows where she is, logically he shouldn't be so worried. Brennan erases the messages, turns off her phone and rolls over, trying so hard to fall asleep.

Tears wash her eyes as she remembers the talk she previously had.

_There has to be a reason, Brennan. Both of us know Booth is a good man, and an even better man when it comes to you. Whatever it is, it will come up eventually. But in the meantime, you can stay here whenever you want, for however long you want. You're my best friend, Temperance, and it kills me to see you like this._

She falls asleep with dried tears on her face to the comfort of second home.

* * *

7:45am approaches and the ever ear-piercing sound of a child unattended breeches her sleep. It's not an unfamiliar sound, but a sound that she'll never neglect. A wave of guilt washes over her. She left her daughter at home, and she misses her. She just left her there. Her mind holds her here, but her feet pick her up and home.

Removing the bedding from the pull-out couch, she folds everything and places it on the coffee table across the room. Before she leaves without a goodbye, Angela walks down the stairs, Michael Vincent in her left arm. She turns around as Angela gets to the end of the stairs. Angela's hand rests on her shoulder.

"I have to go home, Angela. I have to feed Christine, I have to hold her and see her and-"

"Booth can do that too, sweetie. But I understand the need to want to see your own child, of course. Go. I'll be here whenever you need me."

Brennan turns around and turns the doorknob to the front door. She turns her head to flash a thankful smile, and leaves the house without another word.

* * *

The cab arrives back at her home at 8:15am. She sees a light on in the kitchen and panics. _I can't be in there long. I can't be. But I have to be there for Christine. I will not abandon my child._ She sucks in a heavy breath and pulls out her keys, walking to the front door. The keys jiggle in the lock until the door opens.

Christine is in her high chair eating a small bowl of milk-less Cheerios. She smiles for the first time in hours. Booth enters the room, newspaper in hand, and stops when he sees her. She diverts her eyes immediately.

"Hodgins told me you stayed the night."

Brennan lifts her head to acknowledge Booth.

"Yes, I did. And I mostly likely will spend more nights there."

"Why can't you just talk to me about how you feel, Temperance? We have a child together, we live together, you can't avoid being here forever."

A deafening silence fills the air. She doesn't answer. She'll be back, she will never leave her child, but she will avoid everything as much as possible. She'll shove away all that she can, as long as it means her life finding a plateau.

She walks up to Christine and takes her out of her high chair, giving her a loving kiss on the temple with a smile.

"I would like to spend time with my child, if you don't mind. We're going for a walk around the neighborhood. I'll be back soon." With Christine in one arm, she walks over to the closet, where the stroller sits right behind the door. Lowering Christine into the stroller and buckling her in, she spares a glance back at Booth, who stares back sadly.

It saddens her, so she turns her head forward, avoids it, and tries to forget.


	3. Wants and Needs

**I want to just thank you all for the overwhelming responses to this story. It kind of just started off as a drabble in my head, and I wanted to leave it with something on the mind to think about instead of a full-fledged story, so I'm ending it here.**

**I'm bad with dialogue in stories, and the only person I feel I can fully capture in character is Brennan, so the end of this will linger, as if there could be more, but there won't be.**

**I don't promise it'll be that long either, but I do promise it'll be a super emotionally angst filled end.**

**Sorry this was so long haha. Thank you for all the positive feedback and love. I'll be back to write more. If you have any requests for Brennan, Angela, or Brennan&Angela fics, let me know. I'm more than happy to oblige. Xo.**

* * *

A single drink more and the bottles empty. It's unlike her to finish it alone, but the bottom of the glass is a reminder of why she's drinking in the first place. She knows she should probably stop, but the numbing seems promising. The more the time passes, the less it hurts, and that's what she needs. She needs to emotional turmoil to end already, but it's only been two days, and she knows the brain doesn't even adjust to change that quickly.

The chatter in the background swims in her mind. She can't make out the words; it's all noise right now. She barely even recognizes the tap on her shoulder until the force of the touch becomes heavier.

"What are you doing here all alone?"

_Fuck, it's Cam._

"Drinking, as you can see. I thought it was quiet obvious, but obvious things tend to be glossed over by people with lower intelligence than me."

Cam rolls her eyes and takes a seat at the bar next to her.

"Is everything alright? Last time I saw you, you were practically glowing and crying in Angela's arms."

She doesn't want to answer. Her posture stiffens and her grip on the empty glass tightens.

"You know, just forget I asked. I know something's wrong, but you've never been one to speak freely with your feelings. So as a friend, I'll just be here to take your mind off of it."

Brennan turns her head and her face softens, lips curly up into a slight smile.

"I'd like if you could stay as long as you can, if it's not too much trouble. While I would prefer being alone, I believe it's mentally unhealthy for me at the moment."

Cam smiles and turns around to face the bar.

"Of course."

* * *

Three meaningless, different conversations and half a bottle later, it's 11:30pm. Cam is leaving some cash on the bar and putting her coat on.

"You should go home, Brennan. It's been almost four hours since-"

"Booth called off the engagement."

Silence in the air.

"That sounds extremely unlike him."

"I don't know how to feel anymore, Cam."

Cam helps Brennan off the bar stool and helps her put her jacket on.

"Well, if there's one thing you do know, it's that you love your daughter, and she's at home, and I know, that even though you are the most rational and intelligent human being I've ever met, you need to take care of her, no matter what the consequences of your own life."

Brennan lowers her head.

"It's the only reason I want to be home anymore."

* * *

When Brennan unlocks the door, the kitchen light is on and the clock reads 11:50. She spent a ten minute car ride with Cam absolutely silent, and now all she wants to do is sleep.

She carries herself upstairs to Christine's room where the door is cracked open. Booth is asleep in the chair across the room, and Christine is in her crib.

She walks up to the crib and leans against it, reaching down to tuck in her daughter.

_It's all for you _she thinks to herself. _I'll never leave you_.


End file.
